


Dishonoured Bound

by Megane



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Twins, Assassins & Hitmen, Attempted Murder, Background Relationships, Fate & Destiny, Implied Relationships, More Characters to be Introduced as We Go, One-Sided Attraction, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Secret Societies & Organizations, We Got Ours an AU Extravaganza Here, one last job
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 00:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17818790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: Prompto Argentum, alias Kinnabari, is hired to assassinate the son of a mob leader. The job itself more of the same, but when he finds out who his client and target are, things get a bit more interesting. Unfortunately, he's at the point where he's tired of killing, and he thinks he can do one last job before he quits the crime game for good. He knows it won't be easy, but maybe, through a stroke of irony, he'll be able to get out of this alive.





	1. Betwixt Prayers

     “Mr. Scientia.”

Ignis opened his eyes slowly when his name was called. His clasped hands relaxed a bit, and he sat up straighter in his kneeling position. He looked over his shoulder towards his straight faced bodyguard, who stepped out of the way to reveal a lithe blond man that had been trailing behind him.

     “Your honoured guest has arrived.”

     “Thank you, Nyx,” Ignis replied as he stood up to his feet. He casually brushed himself, and he heard the soft falls of footsteps behind him.

     “Didn’t catch ya at a bad time, did I?” asked his newcomer.

     “Not at all. There’s always time for prayer. It would just seem that right now just isn’t it.”

Ignis turned around with slow grace and looked to his guest. He wasn’t at all what one would expect from an assassin, much less one so prolific — bright blue eyes, wispy blond hair, a frame that spoke more of hours playing video games instead of unscrupulous dirty work — but Ignis knew better than to judge anyone by their appearances. He himself was all too familiar with the misgivings of first impressions. He reached up to adjust his glasses.

     “You’re Kinnabari?”

     “One and only,” came the easy, youthful reply.

His voice was light and bouncy, but it made Ignis question the exact age of his marksman. He mentally waved away the thought as soon as it came to him. It didn’t matter, especially in a world like theirs.

     “Have you eaten?” he asked instead.

     Those brilliant blue eyes lit up with surprise, and for a moment, the hitman seemed bashful. Kinnabari shook his head to correct himself before replying, “I, uh. I could use something to drink if you don’t mind.”

     Charming. “Of course not. Come this way.”

Ignis took the lead, Kinnabari followed, and Nyx brought up the rear. They walked in a single file through Ignis’ home. The interior was nice, _personal,_ and had a fine mix of wealth and purely aesthetic appeal. The decorations were all tasteful. Everything complimented each other without being too matchy. There were a few wall hangings that threw off Ignis’ colour scheme of oak brown, ivory, and smoke grey. One was a framed abstract painting with colours thrown in frustrated streaks against the canvas, which had been improperly treated and was wrinkled in odd places. The other was an overexposed picture of two people sitting in a field with the sunlight obscuring their faces. In spite of the blinding quality of the photo, it was strangely dream-like. Ignis glanced over towards it in passing before staring straight ahead again.

     “I trust you’ve done your research about me,” he spoke finally as they exited the hall and stepped out into the main part of the house. They curved through the living room towards the kitchen. Nyx placed a hand on Kinnabari’s shoulder and guided him over towards the large dining table.

     “Oh, right,” Ignis softly heard behind him. He smiled a little and stepped into the kitchen on his own. “I looked you up, yeah,” Kinnabari continued once he was seated. “Ignis Scientia, third Patriarch of the Illustre Scientia. I’ve followed your connections. Led me to some interesting places.”

     “I do hope they were a good kind of ‘interesting,’” Ignis replied easily. “Do you want something hot or cold?”

     “Hot please.”

Manners. Ignis did so like a person with those. They were so rare to come by these days. He prepared the water and decided he would make himself a cup of Ebony as well. As he waited for the kettle to sound off, he turned around and looked over towards Kinnabari.

     “They were,” Kinnabari replied amicably. His lips tugged up to one side in a smile. “But after seeing all of that, I’m curious as to what kind of job _you’d_ have for me.”

     “Nothing easy, I can assure you. In fact, I would even dare to say that this is something a bit ambitious.”

     The hitman lifted his chin and canted his head to one side. “Oh?”

     “Indeed. It’s a job I’m sure you have either been requested  to do before or one you’ve heard whispers of.”

Ignis paused. For effect, yes, but also to gauge Kinnabari’s reaction. Outside of that initial gesture of intrigue, the blond wasn’t giving anything away. He turned his thumbs slowly around each other, waiting patiently for Ignis to continue. Excellent, of course. Ignis looked down at his counter and picked up the week old newspaper he had waiting. He slowly exited out of the kitchen, holding the paper against his shoulder.

     “I won’t waste anymore of your time, and so I will cut immediately to the chase.”

He set the newspaper on the table and slid it across to Kinnabari, whose eyes immediately focused on the item. On the front were two men: one was older and very well-to-do; the other was young, around Kinnbari’s age if Ignis had to guess. He watched the blond quietly as he absorbed the information now in front of him.

     “I would like for you to kill or otherwise incapacitate Noctis Lucis Caelum.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I talked with missyunfa on twitter about this ages ago. This was just going to be an actiony one-shot with a Mr. & Mrs. Smith style action scene between Prompto and Gladio. _However_ , I just couldn't get myself into the writing head space. Now nearly two years, one FFXV, and three DLC later, I'm finally back, baby! Also, I'm still tender from Episode Ignis. Don't touch me.


	2. The Meeting

Prompto rubbed his face with both hands before groaning loudly into his palms. His younger twin brother, Futurus, sat opposite him and was leaning back in his chair while nonchalantly sipping a mug of hot chocolate.

     “So, you gonna go see him or what?”

     “I mean… I dunno.” Prompto sighed hard; his shoulders sagged forward in dismay as he weighed his options. “I could just not show up, you know, but what if he’s one of those guys that send people after me?”

     “If one more schmuck kicks in our front door, I’m burning the whole place down.”

     Prompto laughed against his hands and slid his face up. He cupped his hands over his nose and mouth as he looked over to the side. “I know…” He paused and, with a blink, looked down to the notes and pictures he had in front of him. “He seems like an alright guy from, you know, a mafia perspective.”

     “Hadn’t done anything too shady to put us off,” Futurus remarked.

     “That we know of,” the twins both muttered. Prompto closed his eyes, and Futurus reached forward to spin one of the pictures around.

In it was a tall man walking across a veranda; the still image captured him adjusting his tie. His profile was severe, but he himself was immaculately dressed. _Aren’t they always_ ? he thought to himself as he gave the photo a proper once over. Ignis Scientia, current leader of a _very_ secret organisation called the Illustre Scientia; though, there were people who lovingly (and venomously) called it “The Scientia Family”. Getting information about Ignis or his mob was a nightmare. People knew that it existed, but there was hardly any information to go on outside of its name. Rumour was that, after Ignis took over, it became even more of a mystery. If it weren’t for those living who knew it and him by name, the Scientia Family might’ve disappeared from semi-public knowledge altogether. That was a scary power.

There was another man with Ignis. The bodyguard, the twins had learned during their reconnaissance. His expression and body language were both hard to read, and his hands were folded behind his back. Even though the photo was taken from some distance away, the bodyguard looked incredibly alert as if he was ready to strike at any moment. That was also dangerous. Futurus wasn’t sure if that was alertness borne from paranoia or combat experience. Unfortunately, there was no way to tell for sure without meeting him.

     Futurus tapped his finger over Ignis’ face before sitting back again. “Meet this guy. You’re a better judge of character in person.”

     “I know,” Prompto whined tiredly. “I’m just… I just want to be done with this.”

He dropped his arms and his head to the table. Futurus watched his brother with empty eyes and pushed back the sympathetic things he wanted to say. He took a long drag from his mug and, after obnoxiously smacking his lips, he said,

     “Ya shouldn’t’ve been good at what you do.”

     “ _T_ _hanks_ , Turus,” Prompto snapped, his voice muffled slightly against the table.

     “But… maybe if you do this, he can cut you a favour. He can help you disappear, hang up your hat. Call it a day.”

     “Just me?” Prompto lifted his head and stared at his twin.

     _“Please_. People hardly even know I exist. That’s the whole point of me being here, right?”

Futurus made a wide gesture to the items on the table. Prompto followed the movement with his eyes. He was so tired. He hated the bloodshed; he hated the pain he caused, but Futurus was right. He made a name for himself being good at what he did. The worst part about it was that at one point he didn’t always hate it, but that was a part of him that, now, he couldn’t understand. He looked to Futurus again, and their eyes met. Futurus held his mug against his lips, waiting for him to say something. When the silence continued to stretch on, he set the mug down, dropped his chair properly onto its feet, and let out an embarrassed noise.

     “I really hate you, you know that?”

Prompto gave a tired smile as his brother walked around to his side and hugged him. He turned the hug by bringing up his hands and hooked them on one of Futurus’ forearms.

     “Just meet him, okay?” Futurus said in a low voice. “I’m not saying you have to accept, but learn what you can. See how good your odds are of getting out.”

     “... I will,” Prompto replied quietly.

Futurus stayed where he was for a moment longer before quickly pressing a kiss to the top of Prompto’s head, and then he shoved away, trying to distance himself from the tender moment.

     “Fucking puppy dog eyes…”

Prompto snorted a laugh. He already knew how his brother was. Honestly, he was surprised that he managed to get a hug _and_ a kiss out of this. Maybe this was a sign something good would come their way.

     Or maybe it was just a horrible, horrible omen for unexpected things to come. ...Great.

     “Anyway,” Futurus said once he flopped down into his chair again, “if you need anything, I’m going to give you a radio tablet to quickly call me. Try not to swallow it.”

     “No promises.”

Futurus rolled his eyes and elected to finish drinking his hot cocoa instead of verbally replying. Prompto cleaned up the files on their table. He shoved everything inside of the manila folder, but he paused on one of the photos and stared at Ignis’ picture one more time. He committed the face to memory. He had a feeling this man would be his one way out of this life, one way or another. Prompto pursed his lips together and stuffed that photo in with the others. He dropped the folder onto the table. He made up his mind. Now all he had to do was follow through.

  


_"You sure you’ll be alright?”_ Futurus asked in Prompto’s ear.

     Prompto adjusted the communicator so it wasn’t so loud and adjusted his hair over his ear. “‘m already here, aren’t I?”

_“I’ll be over the alley on Secondary just in case. Got my eye on you.”_

Prompto turned to the east and squinted his eyes against the glare of the sun. He couldn’t make out Futurus’ shape in the distance — a good thing for a sniper — but he gave a small jerk of his hand anyway in a wave. With that, he turned around to face the large wooden door again. “This is it,” he said to himself. He walked up the stone pathway to the front door and knocked. The wood was hard and solid under his knuckles. Hell, it even hurt a little.

He drew his hand back and ran his thumb over his knuckles with a slight frown. When the lock turned on the other side, he stood upright and tried to look presentable. The door opened, and two people stood on the other side. Prompto immediately tensed up, and he jerked a hand backwards, going for the weapon on his lower back. It was a twitch, nothing more, and thankfully, he could stop himself before he made a really bad decision.

     “An’ ‘o’re you?” asked the man on the right.

     “I’m here to see the, ah, master of the house.”

The two guards looked to each other. Prompto glanced between them and briefly wondered if he and Futurus both missed out on a secret passcode or something. Just then, he noticed someone coming down the stairs nonchalantly.

     “At ease, you two,” said the new man. Ah, it was the bodyguard. Prompto never figured out a name, which already put him at something of a disadvantage.

The two guards were immediately at attention and stepped off to either side of the door, facing each other. Their mean expressions didn’t lessen any, but Ignis’ personal bodyguard didn’t seem bothered at all. He stopped near the two and motioned for Prompto to come in.

     “Come on. He’s expecting you.”

     “Right.” Prompto glanced between the two and stepped in. Their eyes were on him, and he had to ignore the way his skin crawled as they stared him down. It was meant for intimidation, and sure, it worked _a little_. He hurried closer to the bodyguard and shook his shoulders to rid himself of the clinging feeling.

As he climbed up the stairs and curved around to their left, he took the chance to really observe his surroundings. This really was a well-designed home. While he was sure nothing here was exactly cheap, there was a realistic sense of grandeur that he could comfortably ground himself in. It was designed in such a way that seemed attainable. It was a breath of fresh air, but Prompto was all too aware of how such charm could be dangerous.

     “Take you long to get here?” the bodyguard asked.

     Oh, that was surprising. Prompto perked up immediately. “No, not really. I managed to wake up late and still make great time.”

     The bodyguard… laughed. It was such an easygoing sound. Prompto found himself relaxing a little. “Lucky you. Wish I could do the same, but I think I’ve kicked my sleeping in habit for good.”

     “Maybe all you need’s one good day off to bring it back.”

     Another laugh. “Maybe.”

They came to a closed door at the end of the hall, and the bodyguard opened it easily. The room they entered looked like a penthouse of its own. Prompto couldn’t stop himself from looking around, wondering if they stepped into some liminal space. The bodyguard continued steadily onward, and Prompto followed without question.

     “He should be here,” the bodyguard said. He opened up the door slightly and let out a soft noise. Guess _he_ was here. “Mr. Scientia.”

The bodyguard walked inside. Prompto took a few steps forward before standing in the doorway. Compared to the rest of the house, this room was very minimalistic and conservative. There weren’t any decorations on the wall; he could make out the foot of a daybed.

     “Your honoured guest has arrived.”

When the bodyguard stepped aside, Prompto saw Ignis kneeling in front of the window. With Ignis looking back towards them, the sunlight cast his face in an ethereal light. Prompto exhaled slow breath from between his lips. _Wow_.

     “Thank you, Nyx,” Ignis said, and he began to stand up.

Nyx. Ah! Prompto finally had a name; he slotted it away in his mind before glancing over to the now named bodyguard. Nyx nodded quietly, and Prompto stepped closer towards Ignis.

     “Didn’t catch ya at a bad time, did I?” he asked, trying for his usual charm and hoping that it’d get him somewhere.

     “Not at all. There’s always time for prayer.” Ignis turned as he spoke. Seeing him from afar couldn’t compare to having the man face-to-face. Ignis was strikingly handsome. “It would just seem that right now isn’t it.”

A silence fell between them. Though it was brief, Prompto could tell he was being sized up. Ignis’ expression didn’t betray anything. Prompto almost asked “A penny for your thoughts?”, but a part of him didn’t really want to know. To Ignis was the one, however, to break the silence in the end.

     “You’re Kinnabari?”

     “One and only.” Prompto placed a hand on his hip and swayed to one side.

     Still nothing from the taller man. Prompto could find more expression in broken stone, but to his surprise, Ignis asked, “Are you hungry?”

Oh, that was new. At least the _phrasing_ was new; there was a different kind intent in asking someone that question. It would have been nice, familiar, if it was from someone else. Well, it was still nice in any case. Prompto quickly gathered his wit.

     “I, uh. I could use something to drink if you don’t mind.”

     “Of course not. Come this way.”

Prompto let Ignis take the lead, and then Nyx fell in line behind them. Great, now he was sandwiched in between two complete strangers on their turf. Prompto felt himself growing tense. His back straightened slowly; a tingling feeling crawled across his shoulders. By instinct, he started counting the different exits and objects he could use as cover.

     “I trust you’ve done your research about me,” Ignis said.

His confident and easy tone snapped Prompto out of his cycling thoughts. When Nyx’s hand landed on Prompto’s shoulder, he stopped immediately and looked backwards. Nyx nodded towards the dining table. Prompto looked to it and then back to the bodyguard.

     “Oh. Right.” He was usually never _this_ tense, but the mystery of his client had him a little on edge. He sat down and folded his hands on the table. “I looked you up, yeah.” Of course. Who wouldn’t. “Ignis Scientia, third Patriarch of the Illustre Scientia. I’ve followed your connections. Led me to some interesting places.”

They also led him to a lot of dead ends and gave him more questions than answers. Prompto followed Ignis’ movements with his eyes, trying to study his body language and glean something — _anything_ — about this man. Prompto was used to observing people; he made his life on it. He could tell that Ignis was a man who moved with purposes. No movement was ever wasted. When he spoke, his words were measured; his tone was slow and honeyed, but nothing seemed fake. Ignis had a level of control that Prompto’s other clients could only ever _dream_ of.

     As they talked, Ignis soon came out to join them, and he was carrying a newspaper. “I won’t waste anymore of your time, and so I will immediately cut to the chase.”

Oh boy. Here it comes. Prompto kept his eyes on Ignis until the paper was set down in front of him. Ignis’ long fingers were slow to draw away. Prompto looked at them, trying to remember even small, seemingly insignificant details, before focusing on the paper once again.

These people… they were familiar to him. They were the Head and Heir of the Lucian mob. They were modern day Kings and had their fair share of fans and foes. He had never spoke to them, and his path only crossed theirs once. It was completely incidental. That was the day Prompto was trying to get away from a hit gone wrong. By the Six, that had to be, what, four years ago…? His gaze lifted from the photo to the caption.

_Above: Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII with son Noctis Lucis Caelum CXIV entering Fortuna Mandragora late Tuesday morning._

     Prompto almost whistled when Ignis spoke again, “I would like for you to kill or otherwise incapacitate Noctis Lucis Caelum.”

Well. That was one hell of a job. Ignis was half-right in his guess. Prompto had heard people talk about putting out a hit on the Caelums. He also heard people discourage the idea, saying that it was a worthless effort. It had admittedly piqued Prompto’s interest. He placed his hands flat on the paper and looked up at Ignis, who was staring down at him, gauging him, watching him. Unlike with the guards earlier, having Ignis watch him didn’t make Prompto’s skin crawl. In fact, he felt himself rising to the challenge.

     “Well, you have my interest.”

     Ignis’ neutral expression gave. The corner of his lips lifted slightly. “I’m glad to hear it. As I said, this is a rather ambitious job, but now you can understand that that’s putting things lightly.”

     Prompto laughed. “Well, I appreciate your honesty.”

This was new, weird even, being able to laugh with his client. Ninety-nine percent of the people he talked with these days were insufferable or so stiff in the face, Prompto was sure they’d sink underwater. Ignis pushed up his glasses before regarding Nyx.

     “Make yourself comfortable, Nyx. We’ll be discussing the finer details, and I’d rather not have you stand the entire time.”

     Nyx huffed a laugh. “Sir.” He looked down to Prompto before walking over to the open living room and taking a seat on the couch. Ignis turned around and headed back into the kitchen.

It was then that things clicked with Prompto. He was so taken in by the atmosphere that things didn’t register for him until right now. He wasn’t checked for weapons, and Nyx was able to see his back twice now. That meant he saw Prompto’s holster and hadn’t said anything. Ignis didn’t even seem bothered either way. Prompto looked down at the newspaper, pretending to read as his mind wandered away from him.

Ignis was reminiscent of the customers Prompto used to get: old money, old manners, very businesslike without being intolerable. The name ‘Scientia’ suddenly felt familiar to him, but he wasn’t sure if there was an actual connection there or if his mind was trying to find leads where there weren’t any. Prompto chewed the inside of his cheek as the kettle started to whistle and tapped his fingers against the table. Things were about to get really interesting, he suspected. His earlier feeling of change was blossoming again. Prompto looked up to stare at Ignis’ back.

He felt as if he had no choice but to see how far this rabbit hole would go.


End file.
